


sincerely us

by the_mixed_up_files_of_me



Category: Dear Evan Hansen - Pasek & Paul/Levenson
Genre: Angst, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Gen, Multi, every ship gets a moment so I couldn't even tag all of them, some fluff maybe if you look for it, this is an AU because I wanted to write Connor, this is lowkey The Breakfast Club AU that nobody asked for
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-11
Updated: 2017-11-01
Packaged: 2018-12-26 16:01:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 12,921
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12062337
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/the_mixed_up_files_of_me/pseuds/the_mixed_up_files_of_me
Summary: ❛Detention on a Saturday morning is not where Alana Beck planned to end up.Neither did Jared Kleinman, Evan Hansen, or Zoe and Connor Murphy.❜





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hi! I am so excited to write this fic! I think it'll be about 3 or 4 chapters long and I'll try to update as often as I can. Happy reading! <3

Detention on a Saturday morning is not where Alana Beck planned to end up.

Neither did Jared Kleinman, Evan Hansen, or Zoe and Connor Murphy.

"Alana, this better be the first and the last time I ever have to do this," is all her mother says, pulling the car up outside the brick building. Alana makes no comment; she is already burning herself with self deprecation, she doesn't need to let her mother add to that.

Walking towards the school with the dejected stride that only someone given detention can walk, she passes Evan pleading with Heidi Hansen. "Please, Mom..."

"I'm sorry, sweetie, I couldn't change his mind. I tried really hard," Alana hears Heidi tell him before kissing her son's forehead and Evan too is abandoned on the concrete steps.

Alana goes inside; Evan pauses on the steps, catching sight of Jared approaching.

Jared walks to the school; his parents don't even know he's gone and he plans to keep it that way. Eyeing Evan, he says flatly, "If you tell my parents that I'm here, I'm never talking to you again."

From their position on the front steps, as they're about to go inside, they hear the Murphy's arriving before the two figures come over from the parking lot.

"Screw you!"

"Screw _you_!"

Jared raises an eyebrow, smirks the slightest bit. "Well, the Murphy kids are here." Evan doesn't say anything, his breath hitching in his throat as it always does when he sees Zoe. Jared knows this; he sighs a fraction and pulls on Evan's sleeve. "Let's go in, Ev."

The lanky form of Connor Murphy and the petite figure of Zoe are still vehemently arguing as they approach the school.

Zoe hisses at her brother, "I'm here because of you, you--"

"Let's go, Evan," Jared says and practically pulls him through the glass doors and into the silent hallways of the school.

-

Alana adjusts her various papers on the desk eight times before the others come inside. Evan slips away into a corner desk, Jared finds a space by Alana, Zoe and Connor get as far away from each other as physically possible. The desks between them doesn't seem like enough space.

Their principal does not want to be at work on a Saturday and he makes this strongly apparent in the way he says, "Good morning, kids. How are we today?" There is nothing civil in his tone; it's patronising and cold.

"Sir, I'm sure I can explain why I don't need to be here," Alana speaks up, straightening her back.

He narrows his eyes at her slightly. "Do you recall our conversation yesterday, Miss Beck?"

If Alana is hindered by his words, she doesn't show it. Leading school debates has taught her to not let the opposing side see her falter. "Sir, I do remember. I also remember that you unjustly placed me with a group of..."

"Of what?" Connor looks over.

She doesn't make eye contact with him. "With a bunch of... _delinquents_."

The principal rocks back and forth a moment. It's rhythmic; _back and forth, back and forth_. "Miss Beck, you are smart beyond your years but you are not wise." Turning his attention to the rest of the students, he dismisses any of her further attempts to interject by announcing, "Each of you are going to consider your actions thoroughly and write an apology to the school for your behaviour. Don't leave this room, don't be loud, don't kill each other, do your task." Surveying the sullen expressions, the principal adds with almost a milder tone, "You're free to go at three."

The library door shuts behind him, loudly and unforgivingly.

-

Evan picks at the wood desk with nervous fingers, fragments of the wood getting stuck under his fingernails. Zoe, two desk ahead of him, ducks her head and is writing fervently. Through the window to the world cut off from them, a few pale rays of sunlight filter through, giving her an almost glowing complexion.

To his left, Connor glances over at Evan and sees him staring at his sister. Irritation blossoms in his chest. "Whatcha looking at, Hansen?"

Evan nearly leaps out of his skin. Zoe turns around in her seat, along with Jared. Alana is too occupied writing to care.

He can feel his pulse racing and he wonders if Connor can hear it. If only Connor would stop glaring at him SO intensely. "N-nothing."

"You were looking at my sister," Connor retorts. "You were."

"I wasn't," Evan insists, wishing there was more space between them.

Connor repeats, "You were."

Zoe stares at her brother. "Leave him alone, Connor," she orders and Connor surprisingly obeys.

Evan is too grateful to her for words. Licking his chapped lips, he picks up his pencil and attempts to write. His O's look like oil spills; they're shaky and wide. Taking a deep breath, Evan steadies his hand and writes:

                  **_I'm sorry for—_**

-

Jared is bored. Beyond bored. He didn't know that boredom would be physically painful until now. Worst yet, it's only been an hour. Twirling his pencil between his fingers, he wonders if Evan is still alive back there. Despite himself, knows Evan better than anyone else and knows that Evan didn't mean to do what he did.

What everyone did to end up here is still a mystery to him. Jared knows what _he_  did but what would Zoe Murphy or Alana Beck do to deserve dentition? Connor must go to detention with the frequency that most people go to the mall. Zoe on the other hand...she's a spunky girl but she's not an instigator. Alana Beck is outspoken but surely she could have gotten her way out of any bad situation with a few clever words.

It doesn't add up.

-

It's completely quiet.

Connor, who has not written a word, swings his long legs off of the desk and stands up as he announces, "I'm thirsty." Scanning his classmates, he locks eyes on Alana and walks over towards her. She's so intent on her writing that she doesn't notice him until he's hovering an inch away from her desk. She always knew he's tall but he's even taller up close. Alana sits back and gives him a critical look.

"You should be sitting down, the principal told us not to leave this room."

"I don't do a lot of things that the principal tells me to do," he replies, not missing a single beat. Considering her for a moment before drifting towards the library door, he continues, "I'm going to go for a walk."

The door swings shut behind him as he disappears. Alana looks over at Zoe who is unsurprised. "He can't just leave," Alana protests.

"He'll do whatever he wants anyway." Zoe disregards Alana's statement.

"We should tell the principal or go get him," Alana insists. She may not want to be in detention and she may view it as a personal obstruction of justice, but she still has great reverence for the disciplined rules of it all.

"He'll be back. He's told us before that he does this all the time." Zoe is still unimpressed. Turning around in her chair, she makes eye contact with the silent Evan. "You are lucky not to have any siblings."

Evan, floored that she's even speaking to him, manages to reply, "Well, I do have step siblings."

Zoe doesn't waste words. "And where do they live?"

"They're out of state." Evan is relieved that he sounds coherent.

"Good for you," Zoe says with a heavy streak of bitterness. Evan doesn't know what to say or do to make her feel better about the situation so he gazes at her in mute respect. Leaning over the back of her chair, Zoe studies his face a moment, the curves, the edges and the lines. He's interesting to her; there's something about him that she can't put her finger on. Turning back to her desk, she wonders what it is.

Alana smothers a sigh as she silently surveys her past hour of work. Despite her best efforts, the papers are strewn about atop her desk. Everything she writes, every word of an apology is sickening. How can she be sorry for something that the academic pressure more or less drove her to do? Maybe if they weren't crushing her with the intensity of a hydraulic press, she would not have had to take... _them_.

The same silence is pushing in on Evan, making his head hurt and his palms perspire. Running them across his khakis several times, he stares at the blank page in front of himself. Of course, he's sorry. More than sorry. But it's hard, almost impossible, to form in words exactly why he did it. His neck aches from behind hunched forward, his shoulders are burning from the discomfort.

"I'm going for a walk too." Evan jolts out of his seat.

The words fly out of his mouth before his mind catches up. Thinking about what landed him in detention is making his skin crawl and his body tense up from head to foot. He wants to move around, needs to clear his head. Abandoning his desk for at least a couple minutes won't hurt. Aware of their stares, particularly Jared's, he slips out of the library and into the cool, quiet halls.

Connor is leaned against one of the lockers, calmly sipping on a soda. A wave of nervousness washes over Evan. Quickly, he plans to walk past him, perhaps retreat into the bathroom and pull his emotions and thoughts back together in privacy.

As he goes past him, one of Connor's long legs stretch out in front of Evan, almost tripping him. "Hansen, what did you do to end up here?"

Something he shares in common with his sister is his ability to cut straight to the point.

If he's trying to be intimidating, he's succeeding. Evan doesn't want trouble, doesn't want to argue with Connor. Truth be told, he's often thought that he'd like to know Connor better if he weren't so bristling and sharp all the time. Pausing, digging his fingers into his palms, Evan stands in front of Connor, feeling as small as mouse beside a cat.

"Wouldn't you like to know." Evan hears himself say; just because he has an anxiety disorder does not mean that he is shy. There's a difference, one that few people see and are aware of.

"I would." The metal can of soda meets Connor's lips. He knows the difference, he's always known the difference.

"I don't want to tell you," Evan says and wants nothing more than to leave it at that.

Connor lowers the can, swallows. "I see you, you know. So does everyone else. Even Zoe."

Evan blinks at the mention of her name. "What are you talking about?"

"Please," he says with a trace of a mocking tone, "you aren't as invisible as you wish you are. What did you get caught doing?"

"I don't want to talk about it."

"You would tell Zoe, wouldn't you?"

Evan's tongue darts across his dry lips again, aware of the slow tensing and locking up of every single muscle in his body. "I--I said that I don't want to talk about it. With anyone."

And Connor acquiesces temporarily.

Pulling his long body off of the lockers, his hand crunches the empty can with a crunch that echoes in the hallway; watching him wander back to the library, a tingle runs down Evan's spine. Connor has his suspicions about Evan and what he's done; this sends even more trepidation through Evan.

And Evan stands in the hallway, wondering how long he can hide from everyone before they'd start to notice.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi! Thank you all for the support of this fic, it means so much to me! Lots of love to you all and happy reading Xx

When Evan returns to his seat, no one makes a comment about his particularly long absence and Connor doesn't even acknowledge him. Picking at his jet black nail polish, putting his headphones on, Connor doesn't indicate to Evan that he even saw him twenty minutes before.

The scene is replaying in Evan's mind, on a continual rotation like a movie that won't end. Connor's words...did he know? Did he suspect? Trying to decipher what Connor says versus what Conner means is a puzzle that Evan can't solve.

At her desk, Zoe contemplates, rolling the idea around in her mind before she takes action. She doesn't know know what happened. But she knows her brother and she's seen how he's been around Evan before. Discreetly, she stands up and with quiet steps, kneels next to Evan's desk. Connor seems too distracted by his IPod to notice her. Or maybe he does notice but decides not to spend the energy caring about what she says to Evan. That's the more likely outcome.

Jared and Alana in the front of the room are oblivious to the world going on behind them, par for the course.

"Hi Evan."

His pencil hits the desk with a clatter. "Zoe! Hi."

"Did my brother bother you out there?" Zoe wants to know. Resting her hand on the back of Evan's chair, her proximity to him is closer than it's ever been before and Evan suspects it's the closest they'll ever be again.

His throat is dry and he swallows hard, realising that there's been a notable pause following her question. "Oh, right...I mean no, no he didn't."

Her eyes narrow slightly , trying to read between the lines of his generally vague response. "Are you sure?"

To tell her how intimidating her brother can be would be humiliating to Evan. And he can't tell her anything that Connor said to him in the hallway without having to mention the sensitive and burning topic of why he's here in detention. Shaking his head fervently, he manages, "I'm sure."

Zoe seems to accept this externally; she nods, lifts her lips into a fraction of a reassuring smile, begins to stand up. Internally, still has her doubts clearly defined but she knows that he'll never admit anything, not to her face.

As she stands, Evan hears himself say, "Thank you, though." Quickly, when locking eyes with her slightly quizzical gaze, he amends as his cheeks flooding with colour, "That was weird, I'm sorry. I just meant thank you for caring...not that you care or that you have to, but thank you for...checking." His brain tells him to shut up several times over and he clamps his jaw shut.

To his utter relief, she doesn't laugh at him. Being laughed at is a horrible experience, one he knows inside and out. Zoe just smiles at him, her subtle and real smile, says it's no problem at all and Evan can tell that she isn't just saying that.

-

Alana's knee is a jackhammer beneath her desk, her heel tapping repetitively on the floor. _Why is this taking so long, why is it only noon..._

She thinks about all the things she'd rather be doing and all the places she'd rather be. Her initial words were harsh about her classmates here; she knows this and regrets it. Evan is the furthest thing from a delinquent; from what she's noticed, he's incredibly impassive. Connor...her words are a little closer to the mark with him. _What is his deal anyway_ , she wonders absentmindedly. Risking a glance over her shoulder, she sees him tapping his gaunt fingertips lightly against the desktop in beat with whatever song he's playing.

Jared, still twirling his pen between his fingers, gives Alana a rueful look. "You're never going to be able to figure him out, you know."

"I know." Alana resignedly sighs so quietly that no one hears her. Unravelling people, figuring them out, putting together that make them complete, that is Alana's specialty. Insightful, sharp and observant, she prides herself in that ability and dislikes immensely that Connor is an uncrackable statue of mystery.

And somewhere, deep down, she understands how Connor feels to stand alone and friendless all the time. _If I let myself go, I'd probably end up like him... if I'd have kept taking—_

 _No_. Her logical thoughts break through her broken wishes. _Now is not the time for this. I can't let myself go there._

Jared tilts his chair back and privately indicates his head towards Zoe's direction. Zoe's head is bent, her leg crossed over her other one while she draws purple stars on the cuffs of her jeans, clearly lost in her own thoughts. Jared wonders if Zoe knows how Evan looks at her when she thinks that no one cares to notice her.

As Alana's unlikely confidante, Jared whispers to her, "What do you think Zoe did?"

Alana, eager to no longer dwell on the weight of her own issues and secretly enjoying some gossip, whispers back, "Matt Holtzer said that his younger sister saw Zoe smoking pot."

Jared rolls his eyes. "Matt's sister is like one of those Facebook fake news stories. She thought I died last year and told everybody and my parents were getting sympathy cards." Casting one more look at Zoe, Jared continues, "Wasn't it Sabrina Patel that said something about Zoe pushing someone over last week?"

Alana twists her lips, considering. "Maybe she meant Connor? Connor pushes over a lot of people and Zoe is kind of...small."

"Zoe is small but she is pretty strong," Jared objects, "I could imagine her pushing someone over if they really upset her."

"What would upset her though? It would have to be something important." Alana doesn't know Zoe well enough to guess but her curiosity is peaked now.

So is Jared's, but not towards Zoe anymore. "Speaking of, why are you here?"

His words, while said quietly, echo like a loudspeaker in Alana's head. Backing away slightly from him, Alana lightly remarks, "It was a large misunderstanding."

Behind his wide glasses, he blinks, not believing her for a second. "Don't you want to tell somebody?"

"No."

"Why not? Because it actually matters?"

"Shut up, Jared." Her words are not harsh but they are firm.

Jared nods briefly, picks up his pencil and spins it around some more. "Will do."

Alana isn't finished yet. Not with her curiosity running high and fast. Debate clubs taught her how to twist words around for her own benefit. "I'll tell you why I'm here if you tell me why you're here. But you have to tell me first."

He considers this. "Fair enough." Setting aside the pencil, his gaze grows more serious. "You can't tell anyone, though."

A secret. Alana enjoys those. "No problem."

Jared thinks over his reply a great deal before he finally answers her. "I might have hacked into the school computer to get answers for a test that I didn't study for."

A pause. "Holy _crap_ , Jared."

Defensively, Jared replies, "It wasn't my fault, not really. I was home sick for the whole week so I couldn't study but when I showed up for school on the day of the test, I knew I couldn't fail. Besides, the computer system here is so basic that it only took a few minutes to get the password and log in for the answers. I just didn't account for the fact that they have a group email that gets sent whenever someone logs in and they...clearly caught me. That's such a stupid security system."

Alana is surprised; she never expected Jared to ever cheat but then again... "Wow..."

"I know." Jared sounds both resigned and slightly pleased with himself. It took smarts to hack into the computer and despite being caught, he at least was satisfied with himself for being sharp enough to figure it out. Turning the tables, he nods at Alana. "Your turn."

Alana sucks in a small breath, clears her throat. Squares her shoulders. Tries to prove to Jared that she is entirely confident and not leaving herself vulnerable to his thoughts and even worse; judgment. "Well," she starts in a low voice that she prays only he can hear because out of all the people in this room, Jared is the only one she trusts with this information, "I'm in all the advanced classes, as you know."

"You usually make sure that everyone knows that," Jared drily replies.

Alana presses on, her tone far too stiff and formal to be natural. As if she's giving a campaign speech and not talking just to Jared. "In the advanced classes, you have to stay later and get here earlier and it's just generally really tiring. And um, I started to fall asleep in class because I'd stay up until four in the morning studying and my grades started to fall...so I asked someone on the football team to give me something that he uses to stay alert for games."

"So...drugs?" Jared's tone is neutral.

Alana amends hastily, aware of the tingling panic beginning to elevate in her, "No, not like that. I didn't take them for fun, like Connor does. I just uh...needed some to focus until the semester ended and I could get out of some of the extra classes."

"Did they help you?"

"I got so many A's, it was more than I've ever gotten," Alana admits and is surprised by herself as she continues, "They made me really alert and helped me focus and I didn't see the harm in it."

"Until..."

"I got caught taking one before a test and they called it 'performance enhancing drugs' and now I'm here," she shortly finishes, acutely that she's said far too much. To give away her secret is terrifying. Anxiety sends tingles down her spine in waves as she diverts her attention to the large clock in the room and awaits for Jared's inevitable judgment of her.

Only it doesn't come. "Ok," he calmly says and that's all.

Alana almost wanted a little more of a reaction. "'Ok'?" she repeats.

He shrugs. "Yeah." And his silence is far more revealing than his brief response because there is not a chance that he'd ever tell Alana that he actually pities her and wishes she wouldn't be so impossibly hard on herself.

Except Alana doesn't read his silence, she only hears his dismissive tone and her jaw tightens as she turns her eyes back to the clock, wondering how much longer she'll have to endure this day.

-

Across from them, unaware of any of this, Zoe begins to work further on her essay, pen scribbling on the paper with recklessness, trying to hurry the words out.

**'...I will not apologise for defending him.'**


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry that it took me so long to update this! School has been really busy but I'm back to updating and writing so the next update will be much sooner. Thank you all so much for your comments and support, it really encourages me to keep writing. Xx

It had all been a blur.

One fast moving, swirling watercolour of sounds and people.

In the packed hallway, students pressing in on one another, Zoe had heard the fragments of the conversation that flipped her day, week and probably month upside down.

The cluster of classmates had been flocked near Zoe's locker, close enough for Zoe to listen to as she rummaged to find textbooks. "That Hansen kid was in the bathroom freaking out before the class presentation," one of her classmates had said only to his friends but in an intentionally loud voice that bounced off of the cold metal lockers.

"So what did you do?" one of the girls had asked.

"I laughed at him and then he tried not to cry. It was pretty gross."

 _You're pretty gross_ , Zoe had thought distantly as she had slammed some more books into her backpack. She didn't know much about Evan Hansen at the time but she knew enough to pity him. In the few times they had talked, he was always kind to her but unfortunately in high school, the nice kids get stepped on like a bug under a shoe.

"He was writing something down and I took it because it was hysterical. Here, let me read it," said the boy and pulled a crumpled, smudged sheet of paper out of his jeans pocket. Zoe looked on and said nothing, suddenly aware of how tight her collar felt. Bullies hurling verbal attacks at Evan is inevitable; he is so quiet, so screamingly insecure and the perfect target to get eaten alive by them. There would be little that could be done to stop that completely, Zoe knew this.

Stealing his property for laughs and mockery was another thing altogether.

Her classmate started reading it aloud. With every word, Zoe stopped moving, stopped putting her books in her bag and could only stare at them with mute disgust at their deplorable assault on him. It was some kind of letter, some kind of pathetic story to himself.

The laughter by the perpetrators had made her stomach twist, their escalating and dramatic voices animating the deeply personal narrative. Breaking through the swirling kaleidoscope of words and letters, was one single sentence that changed everything.

"'... _but if there's Zoe, then there's a reason to keep going_ '...oh my god," the boy leaned his head back against the lockers, his voice rising as he adds, "This is the best thing I've ever read, _oh my god_."

The words flew past Zoe's lips long before her mind had caught up as she had stepped closer. "Hey! What is your deal?"

His head lifted and made cold, unfeeling eye contact. "Aww, his girlfriend is here to rescue him."

Zoe didn't bat an eyelash. "You should give that back to him."

"Come and get it." And the smug, satisfied smirk was enough to make her skin crawl with reproach. "Come on babe, come get your boyfriend's trash."

And that's when the blur began, the shapes and people melding into a split second action. What exactly happened, what exactly she said and did is still an unanswered question. Her knuckles ached, she felt her hair be yanked and her fingers reached at the paper, wrinkling it in her effort to get it into her grip. Excited and eager screams of students around her were like smudged ink, one voice running into the other.

Breaking through the thick crowd, breaking through everything, arms grasped her waist, lifting her off of the boy and almost entirely into the air. The boy, laying on the disgusting hall floor, wiped the blood off of his mouth, quickly got to his feet and laughed at her. Perspiration made Evan's letter stick to her hands; she felt herself lunge at him again in retaliation but a sharp voice in her ear told her to stop and sucking in a deep breath of air, she did.

"Hey, she started it, Murphy." The boy dried more blood on his sleeve.

Connor's chest rose and fell against her back as he held Zoe's arms tightly behind her. "You know, I have a great idea about something you should do."

"I bet you'll tell me, Murphy."

"Yeah, you should go into space without a helmet on." Turning, he dragged Zoe through the dispersing crowd, away from everybody else, away from the scene. The boy called an expletive after them and Connor returned it with a far, far more vulgar one. With the group of spectators disappearing behind them, Connor hissed at Zoe, "What were you thinking?"

"Shut up," she spat, and rushed to shove the letter into her pocket so no one else would get ahold of it.

Connor looked down at her and saw the letter in her hand. His expression flickered as he saw the handwriting and all at once, he understood. Not as if he could tell her that, of course. Even with his hands digging into her forearm as he pulled her along the hallway, they were too far apart.

They almost reach the school's swinging glass doors when the principal's shining, black shoes came into view. Of course he knew about the fight, heard the cacophony.

One sharp, critical look at the situation and the Murphy siblings.

"Zoe and Connor, why don't you step into my office?"

It wasn't a question.

-

Zoe turns in her chair to look at Evan's bent head as he writes hurriedly with quick hands.

What is it about him that made her want to defend him, made her risk so much for him? She's been asking herself all day. And why did he write about her? Zoe straightens in her chair, picks up her pencil and resumes writing:

_**How can I be sorry for defending someone that needed help? I would be more sorry if I did not.** _


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The love and support that I've gotten for this fic means the world to me and I am so, so grateful. Sending love and hugs! Xx

Connor watches Alana's pensive expression as her eyes settle on the middle distance, lost in thought.

He knows why she's here; he has known since she began popping the pills. He'd seen her approach the boy on the football team every single week. Nothing escapes Connor's notice and Connor always escapes everyone else's notice.

Which proves to be convenient occasionally.

Alana will never know and it's better that way, but Connor approached the football player a week before she was caught. Connor straightforwardly asked him if he was giving Alana drugs for school and the boy said nothing which Connor found to be quite telling.

"Why do you care?" he'd asked Connor.

Connor replied, "I don't. Just call it experience."

He told the boy to stop giving them to her and because Connor Murphy is an extremely impressionable person, the boy agreed under the one condition that Connor tell the principal that he was the one that gave Alana the drugs if anyone catches her.

Connor agreed.

Alana got caught.

-

It's not as though Jared doesn't feel badly for trying to cheat on a test.

He's smart, he knows he can do better than this but despite covering the situation with humour, he can't get rid of the bitter taste in his mouth.

It's not as if what he did is impossible or even out of his character. It feels like a chain effect; when Evan needs help with homework, he goes to Jared. Everyone in the class does yet Jared has no one else to go to than himself and quite possibly that's why he buckled under the pressure of getting a perfect score.

"I get why you did it," is all that says Jared says to Alana suddenly and Alana doesn't have to ask him to clarify for her. Relief floods her cheeks, the warm understanding that she never anticipated to spark between them.

Across from them, Zoe's neck aches from her bent position, pain encasing every muscle running down her back. Stretching, leaning backwards, she closes her eyes and wills the words to flow.

They do not.

She has not advanced further than her last sentence, crossing out lines and lines that don't express what she's trying to say. She's not sorry for her action, how can she be expected to write a novel pouring out apologies?

She wonders if Evan will ever know that she did that for him. She doesn't want him to; she'd rather keep it her secret.

Just how secret is it, though? She wonders this as she recalls Connor's particular look when he dragged her away from the fight. Zoe turns a fraction in her seat to give him a single look, his glassy eyes meet her shining ones.

Connor taps his fingers against the top of his desk and his features are empty of any emotion as he stares back at his sister in the silent communication that exists between two people who have lived so long together.

With a sudden, sinking feeling, she knows that Connor knows. Not from any facial clues, not from any mouthed words.

It's from his one brief, deliberate glance over at Evan and before meeting her eyes again.

-

As the three hours tick by, even Alana's strict respect for the arrangement of remaining at their desks has diminished. She stands up and this makes everyone pay attention to her instead of their writing assignments.

"I'm going to go find something to read." It is a library, after all.

This is the first move to freedom from the invisible chains of the desks, and all of them are relieved. Jared follows Alana into the fiction section. Zoe, casting a private look at Evan, seeks out a quiet corner in the nonfiction section.

Connor lingers by Evan, who watches Zoe leave and wishes he had Jared's confidence to just follow someone. Besides, Evan reasons that he has nothing of importance to say to her so why should he waste her time? Isolation it will have to be then.

Picking up his backpack, Evan notices Connor and he also notices the awkward silence. "So, um..."

Connor, rummaging through his bag, looks up at him expectantly. The sudden, undivided attention startles Evan who loses all grasp on what to say to Connor in attempt to fill the silence.

Connor keeps waiting.

Evan struggles.

"You're weird," Connor finally speaks. Despite his words, there is no harshness beneath them. Almost amusement.

"I know," Evan replies with resigned honesty.

Connor's lips quirk. "Well, so am I. We can pretend to be normal together."

And for this one moment, Evan stops feeling nervous around Connor.

Connor begins to walk and something about the way he looks over his shoulder at Evan is an unspoken invitation. With quiet paces, Evan follows Connor, praying that he didn't misread Connor.

The mystery section. Evan isn't surprised that Connor picked here of all places to be.

"What do you like to read?" Evan asks him.

A shrug of his slim shoulders. "Anything."

"I remember that you made a list for a school assignment."

Connor seems to recall the memory; a whisper of a smile traces his face. "I remember too."

Because apparently books are a safe topic, Evan asks Connor if he has any suggestions.

"Shakespeare is overrated," Connor admits and while running his hand across the bindings of the books, he adds, "Harper Lee, Agatha Christie...the female writers are better."

"We read Macbeth in school last year."

"We did," Connor agrees, " _'What's done cannot be undone'_."

When Evan first read that quote in Macbeth last year, it had sent waves of conflicting emotions through him. Connor saying it aloud in his dry, almost wavering tone still sends the crashing, confusing feelings through his mind. "Do you think...that's true? What Shakespeare said, I mean."

Connor turns and stands towering over Evan, his features forming an expression that is impossible to read. "Well," he says, "As I said, the female writers are better."

-

Zoe is cornered by Jared.

At first she didn't realise he was approaching until his familiar sneakers came into view. Alana is nowhere to be seen. From her position cross-legged on the floor, a heavy book resting on her thighs, she looks up at him.

"Zoe, I need to ask you something."

Jared does not take the time to cut corners with unnecessary politeness.

Zoe expectantly shuts the book. "Ok, shoot."

"I don't know what you did to end up here, but was it because of him?"

"Who is 'him'?"

"You know who. Evan."

"Oh," is all that Zoe replies, noncommittal. "What inspired this question?"

"Alana and I were talking and rumour has it that you punched a guy in the face. I don't really care about the details so spare me them, but this wouldn't be the first time that you've looked out for Evan without him knowing. I know about the time you told the whole school to sign his cast because no one else was going to."

Zoe remains nondescript. She folds her hands, rests them on her knee. "You won't tell him, will you?"

Jared is conflicted. "Why are you hiding it from him?"

"It's...hard to explain." Zoe's expression has shifted along with Jared's. He hesitates, pulls off his glasses and cleans the lens on the hem of his shirt.

She finally continues, "It's safer to be anonymous."

"Says the girl who willingly stands front and centre on the stage for jazz band concerts."

"That's different," Zoe insists, struggling to keep the heat low in her voice. "People see the whole band, not just me."

"And if Evan sees you and what you've done for him, he'll really see you. I assume that you've never been seen before separately from band or your brother?" Jared guesses, sliding the glasses back up onto his nose. "I'd almost say that's pathetic but it's weirdly understandable so..."

"When or if I want to tell him, I will."

Jared draws in a breath and nods slowly. "So you _did_  punch the guy?" When she nods yes, he tilts his head. "That's actually very cool."

Zoe's tension falters. She smiles. "He had it coming."

"I bet he did."

There's a pause.

"Hide it all you want, but you are a good friend to Evan, you know."

Jared rolls his eyes but can't suppress subtle gratefulness over her gentle words.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had some time so I was able to update this much sooner than anticipated! Thank you all as always for the comments, kudos and appreciation. You all are the best! Happy reading Xx

Connor lies on the library floor, eyes skimming over the pages of his novel he's plucked from the shelves. Listening to the clock on the wall, the warm feeling that mimics calmness settles on. Heavy lids overtake him, exhaustion from the constant battle zone in his mind being soothed by the scent of books and quietness.

He is no longer rattled by Evan's presence; he trusts Evan, the version of himself with such a brighter future and so much more to give. People haven't bled Evan dry yet and Connor distantly hopes that _his_ heart will keep pulsing blood.

Evan peers at him from over the edge of his novel and wonders if Zoe knows about the boy who chooses books over speaking and quiet over commotion.

-

Alana asks Jared if he is sorry for what he's done.

Jared, surrounded by books and sprawled out on the carpet, has been somewhat expecting this question.

"I guess that I wish that I'd done things differently but it's whatever," Jared shrugs his shoulders, maintaining his pretence of nonchalantness. A carefully built facade that has taken years to build and maintain. "What about you?"

Alana has done nothing but think about her error all day but it still shocks her as she hears herself blurt out, "I was so stupid." The words come out before her mind has a chance to catch up. It's impulsive and Alana is _never_  impulsive. Never brash, never without careful calculation.

Jared is surprised; he narrows his gaze on her and his expression of disinterest falters for a fraction of a second. "What are you talking about?"

"I don't want to turn out like Connor Murphy, I should've known better."

Connor would have agreed with her if he was there.

Alana regrets speaking; her jaw clamps shut, she sharply shakes her head. "I'm sorry, that was not something I should have said."

"It's ok," Jared says in a low voice yet Alana doesn't let herself believe him.

Rows of books on the shells swirl together in the pools forming in her eyes. Not tears of sadness; not hardly. Anger, anger at herself, simmering and toxically rising. Alana would rather do anything else than let herself show a single emotion in front of anyone. Debate clubs taught her too well for this. Her eyes burn for the release of the angry tears which have formed much to her irritation, her throat aches with the straining tension of self deprecation. Dropping her head, she curses herself for showing and saying what she has. All she wants is to go home and hide amongst the comfort of her bed and blankets.

"I was stupid too," Jared suddenly says.

Alana is startled out of her thoughts.

"That's not anything too unusual, considering my track record," Jared continues with a small laugh that can only be described as nervous and self conscious. Struggling to press forward, he adds, "Drugs are stupid, cheating is stupid...you should have done better and...I should have too. I guess it's about what happens now that it's over."

Alana processes this. So Jared does care, in some way that he won't show but does feel. Maybe one day, she hopes that he'll see that he does not have to play a role or a character instead of himself and his actual feelings. And maybe, she can too. The smallest glimmer of this breaks through as his timid hand extends towards her and rests on her knee; she doesn't pull away. She knows that she'll regret it if she does. Regret is a familiar friend to both and Alana wonders if she would ever have known about this mutual emotion if it were not for today.

-

Turning over glossy pages, Zoe doesn't read a word.

Zoe _had_  told the entire school to sign his cast, Jared was right. When Evan first arrived at school with it, she'd noted his cast and immediately wondered how he broke it.

By lunch, no one had signed it and Evan was dejectedly in the corner of the lunchroom. Looking over at him, Zoe understood one thing with remarkable clarity.

He needed a lift.

To set it in motion was simple; she told Sabrina to sign Evan's cast and since Sabrina is an agreeable person, she did. Zoe instructed Sabrina to tell Matt to do the same and pass it on.

When Evan left school, he had thirty signatures.

Zoe had come up to him last, reaching out and taking his heavy cast in her hand without any warning or hesitation. Holding his wrist steady with a careful hand, she signed her name on the inside of his palm with a small heart beside it. Evan looked as though he were going to cry from pure gratefulness and was rendered completely speechless. Zoe had lifted her head and smiled at him. She knew that she did the right thing and that remaining private about it would always be best. He deserved this kind treatment by others, she did not feel that she deserved a medal for her initiation; it should be natural humanity.

"How'd you break your arm?" she had asked him, capping the pen.

Involuntarily, the smile disappeared off of his face. "I fell out of a tree."

Something in his eyes made her feel a lingering sensation of disbelief. Behind the shell of defence that his anxiety enables, there's a vulnerable, desperate boy screaming to escape and Zoe does not have to be told that she is the first and only person to see that so clearly.

-

She finds Evan in the mystery section.

Seeing her brother asleep near Evan is strange as she comes over to them. With his features so still and at rest, he resembles a completely different person; someone at peace with themselves and the world. Zoe has to remind herself that there are many, many different people that Connor plays.

"Hi Evan," she whispers and he looks up from his book, eyes brightening to see her. Coming closer, Zoe asks if he wants to come with her to get a soda. Or, in entirely unspoken words, she asks him to be alone with her for a moment.

Evan accepts both offers without even realising it.

-

Zoe brings the cool, silvery can to her mouth and the fizzing drink prickles her throat. Swallowing, she eyes Evan who has been struggling to find something to say. His mind is processing, pulse already in his throat just by standing near her.

"You don't have to be nervous around me." Zoe's voice is kind. She hands him a can of soda.

Evan exhales slowly, his lips parting and taking a sip. "Thanks."

"No problem."

His teeth sink into the curve of his lower lip. Her shoulders meet the wall as she leans her small frame against it. Pale, thin rays of light spill across the linoleum floors and metal lockers around them. It illuminates her face and locks of hair that still are softly tinged with the indigo streaks that have now almost dissolved back into their original brunette colouring.

"I...I wanted to say that I really, um liked your indigo streaks that you put in your hair last week," Evan ventures to say. Immediately, his heart leaps inside of his chest as he hears himself speak. _Is that a weird thing to say? Is she going to think I don't like her brunette hair?_

Zoe runs a haphazard hand through her hair, tangling her fingertips through the ends. "Ah, thanks. No one else seemed to like it...or say anything, for that matter. I suppose that people thought I was going nuts and everyone knows that when that happens, the first thing to get effected is your hair."

Her words are spoken with humour and lightness but Evan is all too familiar with the clever skill of masking serious feelings behind brevity. The attempts at making people laugh or smile at your facade in hopes that it will help the twisted negativity inside of you heal. It's a delicate way of trying to show someone your heart and somehow, their laughter is supposed to cure the ache in your chest.

"You should do it again," Evan says, "Not if you don't want to, of course, it just looks really pretty on you. Just because no one said anything doesn't mean that you shouldn't do it, especially if you like it."

"You think?" Zoe is doubtful still. Lowering the can from her mouth, she takes her empty one and Evan's and tosses them into the bin with a clatter that echoes off of the lockers.

An affirmative nod of his head, unconsciously leaning towards her. "I noticed and I should have told you sooner." He pauses before saying in a voice that is so low, it's almost a whisper, "I always noticed."

Laughter will not cure the ache in your chest, but a comforting word can stitch up the wound. All at once, with the one word _notice_ , she knows that he has always seen her as separate from everyone else. No amount of hiding behind anonymity can stop that. He may not know about the cast, but he knows about the time that she put streaks in her hair. He may not know about the time she physically defended but he noticed the time that she sang on her own for the first time in jazz band. Every time she felt alone in a crowd of people, he had known and wanted nothing more than the courage to speak to her.

Zoe does the unexpected.

She breaks down entirely.

It's a mixture of exhaustion and gratefulness, a concoction of pain and relief. To be noticed, to be seen is something she's shirked from her whole life and when she did want it, she was deprived of it.

Evan does not have to be reminded to care about her and he does not ever forget her value.

He smells sweet, like clean linen, Zoe notices. Tears leave constellations on his shirt as his steadying hand reaches forward and brings her closer towards him. His hands hover, full of hesitation before reaching for her face, tucking back her hair in the gentlest of motions. Emotion pricks his eyes, sharp and unforgiving as she buries her face into his neck. Touch is a rarity for him and to be so wholly trusted with it is unbearably perfect. Physical contact, someone's skin against his, simultaneously pulls him together and undoes him at the same time. Their tears freely form their own galaxies and stars onto the pastel blue shirt. Pressing his cheek against her head, his chest throbs in want of the freedom to release the painful, wrenching ache inside of him.

Zoe sucks in a breath of air, filling her lungs. Lifting her head but not wanting to pull away, seeing the dampness in his eyes sends a wave of understanding and pity through her. Daring to lean closer, she presses the lightest of kisses against his jawline, his salty tears flavouring her lips. A cry catches his throat, uncontrollably close to escaping altogether by her simple action and shivering hands hold her closer. Trying, in some way, to show her that she does matter, that she is his sole reason for pushing forward.

He's starving to be touched, she's yearning to be held by someone.

It isn't until she presses another kiss on his jawline that he begins to falter further, the sensation of skin against his is enough to break him down. Sobs begin to wrack his body and Zoe is not exempt either; desperation and exhaustion are a dangerous combination. Soft, trembling lips meet; Evan's first kiss, her first kiss that _matters_. And Evan, he's gasping with shuddering, hot breaths against her mouth, sending tingles down her spine and soul. He's clumsy, yearning, half-sobbing against her and her needy hands cup his face to bring him even closer than before, as if the heat of his skin can ignite her. Breaking between kisses, murmuring soothing words to each other, her forehead meets his, his fingers wrap around her's in an unshakeable grasp. The shift changes again, less drastically. Warm and gentle. Their breathing steadies, their heartbeats reach a unison of calmness. Lightness, relief rises within themselves and their careworn souls.

They need this, they need each other the way that the sun and moon need the sky, the way that the body needs scarlet blood.

And of course, she's mentally etching every movement that he makes because she knows that she will need to replay this memory to keep herself tethered to reality again and again.

Like a movie that will never end.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Helloooo everybody! This chapter has been an emotional roller coaster to write. I can't believe that I'm almost at the end of this story! As always, I thank each and every one of you for your endless support, comments and appreciation. Happy reading and lots of love <3

Connor's rest is torn to pieces again and again, the peacefulness bleeding back into his usual dreams—nightmares, really.

_Evil, monster, psycho, garbage, a disgusting human being, you parents hate you, you will never get better—_

"Connor?"

Alana's bright eyes fix on his as he jolts forward, his pulse frantically in his throat, feeling as though it can just burst out of his skin. Alana bends forward slightly towards him, her book held taut to her chest, curious expression on her face. Jared appears behind her, fingertips coming to a rest on her shoulder.

Connor hears Jared murmur in her ear, "What's up with him?"

Alana doesn't break eye contact with Connor; it makes him uncomfortable as eye contact always does when he feels as though he is not the dominant one. Prying his eyes off of her, Connor brings himself back up onto his long legs.

"Why are you even here?" he snaps.

"I thought that I heard you crying," Alana replies, coloured with blue mildness compared to his red instability.

So he had been—a hasty brush of his hand against his cheek is confirmation of this. Humiliation runs hot and deep, travelling through his veins. Connor moves to turn away, murmuring an expletive.

She grabs his wrist, impulsive.

Connor stops, wrenching his wrist free from her. Another cautionary hand on Alana by Jared.

"Sorry for trying to be a decent human being to you." Alana tucks her arms across her chest; subconsciously Connor's eyes stay trained on her hand that had grasped at him.

The need to no longer feel so completely powerless is coursing through him, uncontrollable. To be pitied is a terrible feeling, so demeaning, so insignificant; Connor takes a stride towards her that has all the strength he can muster behind it. Her petite outline feels small compared to his towering one.

With great effort, he steadies his expression into something entirely stoic, calming his quivering lips and pooling eyes. Had it not been for the damp streaks and his bloodshot, ravenous eyes, he'd look almost imposing.

"Stay out of my business, Beck."

She does not look frightened.

She looks sad.

Mutely nodding, her sadness bleeds into him without warning. The stoic expression falters for a fraction of a second; enough to struggle to put it back up. Connor backs away, shoves his hands into his pockets and slams open the library door with his shoulder.

He's got a lump in his throat; he makes it into the freezing cold, fluorescent lit washroom before strangled sobs escape his throat, sobs that seem to break his entire body. He swears that he's always going to be destined to crying in the bathroom. Collapsing onto the floor, that hard and unforgiving floor, Connor squeezes his eyes shut, mind replaying all of the things he's heard said about him.

_Evil, monster, psycho, garbage, a disgusting human being, you parents wish that you were never born, you will never get better—_

Connor would rest easier if none of those things are true. He doesn't remember how he acts when he's high, just bits and pieces; screaming, throwing things, retching violently afterwards. His father's exhaustion, his sister's anger, his mother's tears...he feels them all, every single one. They make a web, one that wears around himself like a net.

_I'm all of those things and more._

  
-

His eyes are closed, face pressed into her neck, their figures moving in slow, fluid poetry. Rocking from one foot to the next, their hearts are making the music for them to dance to.

Zoe's stroking his hair, pressing her fingers against him. They can't afford more time out here; they resignedly know this. With a heavy heart, he lets her waist go, pulls his body off of her's.

They'd first heard the steel library doors swing open, unaware of who bolted out of there. Now they turn their heads as it opens for a second time. Jared and Alana approach.

"Where's Connor?" Zoe has to ask because of his notable absence.

"You didn't see him run out of there?" Jared tiles his head towards the door. "Oh, that's right you two were too busy making out. My bad."

His words are exasperated but casting a private look at Evan, he's hides his relief that Evan is going to be alright with Zoe. Noticing Zoe's neck, he discreetly gestures; Zoe takes the hint, tucking her hair over her shoulders and covering the decidedly obvious marks spotting her pale throat.

"What happened?" Evan asks about Connor.

"He was crying," Alana cuts in.

"He'll be fine," Jared tells her. Her lips purse slightly in doubt.

The responsible person that she is to a fault, Zoe reluctantly says, "I should find him."

"I'll come with you," Evan says and she offers him a gentle smile. Tucking his hand in her's, they start down the hallway. Jared and Alana hesitate before following, too curious about what's going on to return to the library.

They imagine what would be the look on the principal's face if he saw what they'd done in one day.

And it isn't even two o'clock.

-

The door to the washroom swings open, hitting the wall with force. Connor snaps his head up, struggles to stand on his thin, shaking legs.

"Connor?" Zoe is stunned, as if she's been violently had the wind knocked out of her.

It isn't her brother; there is a large divorce between any familial association between them in this moment. This is barely a person, this is a living memory. This person reminds her of...airplanes. The toy airplanes they used to play with together at the orchard. Back when she used to climb into his bed during a scary thunderstorm and back when she used to ask him to read her stories because of his animated delivery. Back when times were simpler and before he was sick and she froze herself out from her family.

For the first time in at least ten years, he's not playing anybody for once; neither the burnout or the monster or the bitter thundercloud.

Zoe can't afford to be washed with sentiment. It would be too painful to turn back from. Noticing his beat-up bag, she asks, "Did you take anything?"

Connor shakes his head and she's inclined to believe him this time. There isn't a glassy shine to his eyes and his hands aren't fraught with tremors.

"Leave me alone." Connor's hair almost forms a curtain across the streaked, blotchy patches forming on his narrow face. "I don't want you all to just _stand_  there and act like you _care_."

Evan is quiet, so quiet that it's loud.

They all are. It's just bated breathing and hesitation and the clock on the wall ticking with an incredible amount of noise.

"I said, leave me alone."

Silence.

Wavering and unsteady, he tries to push past them, past the barricade of the four bodies that they create in the doorway. It's neither Zoe, or Jared or Alana that stops him.

Desperate to stop him from running away, Evan clumsily grasps at Connor, forming fists to hold onto the fabric of Connor's hoodie, trying to keep him here. Connor's muscles lock up at being stopped so suddenly, a muffled and trembling cry jarring out of his throat without his control. Evan's hands are rouge, traveling towards Connor's arms, less roughly and less abruptly, struggling to hold his shaking form still.

Evan's voice is low, a hush whisper against him. "Connor..."

Alana extends a hand on Connor's forearm with the caution that someone would stroke a wild animal with but with the fragile gentleness that someone would caress a young child.

Because that's what he is and that's what they all are underneath the exterior of adolescence; small, questioning and quivering children.

Icy fingertips touch Evan's shoulders as Connor's exhausted form bends forward into Evan's arms. Evan catches him, of course he does. It's throbbing humiliation to show any of this vulnerability before anyone but Connor is too weakened from his sobs, his nightmares, unable to stand anymore by himself.

Jared takes Alana's arm and the door closes quietly behind them. Taking a step forward, the frame of Zoe presses against Evan's shoulder, knowing that touching Evan will give both of them the strength they so desperately need now.

Connor is trembling wildly; Evan can't find words to comfort him with. In his mind, they all sound so empty and meaningless. Deciphering all the codes in Connor is impossible, he is unable to think of something that could help him now.

Really, there's nothing left to say.

Connor is sick of crying, sick of himself for crying but Evan's arms keep him from wrangling free. Connor's hair is soft to the touch, waving and tucking around Evan's fingers as he pulls the damp strands back from Connor's face that is saturated by both the shed and unshed tears.

And the first time in at least a decade, Zoe voluntarily reaches out for her brother's hand which is digging into Evan's arm. The skin is cold, his hand is bony and covered in bruises; a stark contrast to her warm, smooth, pale hand that she places over his for a fraction of a moment before placing her hand back on Evan again.

She is not the grieving and sentimental girl. She will not play _that_  role.

She is stubborn, built and forged from endurance and and trials that have faced her at every single corner of her life. She is far too wise and far too steadfast than to play the character of hatred, seeing the world in only certain colours. Understanding is not forgiveness and never has been. It's been twisted to seem that way by the world. They are two separate emotions, separate universes of feelings.

If Connor is not black-and-white, then she is not black-and-white and neither is Alana, Jared or Evan.

 _There is no black-and-white, there is only colour that shades everyone so differently in hues we both love and hate_ , is all she thinks.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi everyone! I can't believe that this is the second to the last chapter of this fic...it seems to have been a blur of writing! Initially this was only going to be two or three chapters long and this story just came to a life of it's own. I thank ALL of you for the comments, kudos and encouragement to continue writing.
> 
> Before I get sentimental, onto great news! I'm starting a new multi chapter DEH fic called Square One. I am just in the beginning of writing so it won't be posted for a little bit but don't forget to check my works for when it gets uploaded. Plus there will be regular new one-shots being posted as well.
> 
> Anyway, onto the second to the last chapter of Sincerely Us! Happy reading Xx

"We're going back to the library."

"I'll be there in a moment."

Evan pauses, fixes his gaze on Connor in a silent query. Connor nods his head slightly, an unspoken affirmation of his previous statement. Evan acquiesces, turning and letting Zoe take his hand. Glancing over her shoulder at her brother briefly, she meets his eyes before pushing the door open and it swings shut behind them.

Every bone still feels broken in his body from his sobs. Moving slowly with aching muscles, Connor brings himself towards the row of sinks. Dampening one of the scratchy brown paper towels with cold water, he holds it to his flushed, tear-stained face. A thousand emotions press at the seams of his mind, threatening to still spill out. The last time he'd been held before was by his mother at least two or three years ago. Cooling his face, the memory slips into Connor's mind.

He'd had another panic attack, been curled up on the bathroom floor, weakly and unsuccessfully willing the pain to go away.

That was back when Zoe had tried her best with him, back before things got bad.

She had stood outside the door, asking him to let her in. He'd screamed at her to leave him alone and after a stunned pause, she did. It was at least a half of an hour later but it might as well have been a lifetime before Cynthia unlocked the door. Of course she had the spare key, Connor should have figured that out. Cynthia had tucked him into her arms, wrapped his hunched shoulder in her lavender-scented cardigan and stroked his hair with her steady, gentle fingers.

One of the last memories that Connor can remember with something that assimilates fondness.

Looking at his face in the mirror, he wonders what he would give to have things go back to before.

-

"It's sad," Alana says absently as she takes her place at her desk with resignation.

"The essay?" Jared turns to her.

"No, everything."

Jared decides that silence is a suitable answer, neither overbearing or presumptuous. He's correct. His quiet, listening attitude inspires her to plunge on, "There's so much…pain. And no one says anything about it. No one should feel so alone."

"I guess loneliness is a part of life."

"I said being alone not loneliness. You can be alone without being lonely and vice versa."

"Both, then," he says, pretending not to care much about this, lifting up his pencil in the pretence of finally beginning to write.

A small shake of her head. Quietly: "It shouldn't be that way."

Of course he cares about what she's saying, he cares more than he'll ever admit to anybody. Behind every nonchalant word is a streak of insecurity, behind every false smile is the large, pressing question mark of identity. And being alone is just the large chained ball around his ankle that drudges him down with every step. He blames himself for it, naturally, he blames himself for his lack of friendships and unhealthy addiction to isolating himself when people get close. It's a vicious cycle. More to himself than to her, he agrees, "It shouldn't."

Evan and Zoe approach, regretfully splitting their grasp on each other to take their respective places at their desks. Alana turns to fasten his gaze on Evan.

"Where is he?" she asks about Connor.

"He's coming," Evan says, with quiet assuredness.

If only he had this assuredness the week before.

-

While Alana was getting high, Jared was cheating and Zoe and Connor were getting caught in their various ways, Evan might as well been a thousand miles away.

After his letter got ripped from his hands by the bully, Evan knew that the bully would show the entire school and he'd be popular for the worst reasons imaginable. He could envision the whispers about him being the creepy boy who writes letters to himself. He already could imagine how they'd laugh endlessly at him, their critical stares burning into him.

Evan had never skipped school before. Despite the agony and invisibility, he still went every single day without fail. This time was different; how could he ever face anyone if they knew about the letter?

He got away with skipping for exactly four days before he was discovered.

During those four days, every morning had started the same; Heidi drove him to school, he got out of the car and when he saw that she had driven away, he slipped through the crowd of students and walked to the park.

His conscience burned, of course. He regretted it with every step, he disliked deceiving Heidi. She wouldn't understand though, he reasoned and his mind went wild in attempts to justify himself and his actions. Deep down, in the pit in his stomach, he knew that he shouldn't make such excuses for himself.

Eventually, he just gave up and ignored his brain and the rows of red flags that it tried to raise.

It had actually been an enjoyable four days. He spent the days with the trees that scrape the sky, the soft grass and the occasional checkers game with the older gentlemen that always gather around the same table every morning. When it was time for his mother to get him, Evan walked back to the school and slipped back into the crowd, his absence seemingly unnoticed.

It only seemed that way to him with his narrow lack of perspective on the situation.

Jared noticed, Connor did, so did Zoe and Alana. They were too deep in their own various situations to say anything but they did see him and the lack thereof.

Separately and together, they were drowning.

Evan was discovered on day four, when the principal called his mother asking why Evan hadn't been there for roll call four days in a row. Heidi defended her son against the principal but that did not mean that she wasn't displeased.

When Evan came back to school, the boy who stole the letter only made eye contact once, glanced over his shoulder and said nothing to him. Mockery and insults did not bounce off of the unforgiving metal lockers and Evan was not given weird looks by any of his classmates.

Almost as if someone warned them all not to.

-

Connor comes back into the library and stiffly sits down behind his desk, bracing himself for the inevitable comment about what transpired.

He has no need to worry.

"It's literally a sauna in here," is all Jared says, referencing the heated, unmoving library air. It's stifling to breathe in. Zoe agrees with him.

"I wish I could go outside," Zoe remarks, "Get some fresh air, not this processed, musty school thing called air."

"There's a back door, you know," Alana speaks up. They glance over at her. "I literally live in this library, if you all studied a little more then maybe you would have noticed it to. It's in the back." Alana gestures with her pencil to the back of the library, past the shelves. "It's a fire exit. Disable the alarm by the door and you can go outside. It's easy."

"You're a genius," Jared says with unrepressed admiration. Zoe, already getting to her feet, nods in agreement.

Evan follows Zoe, Alana starts to follow Jared to the back of the library. Pausing, Alana looks over her shoulder at Connor and waits.

He stares at her and tugs at the edges of his worn sleeves. "What are you doing?"

"Waiting for you," she patiently explains.

This has never happened before. "Oh," is all he says with a hint of trepidation, keeping his face nondescript.

Alana arches her eyebrow and continues to wait until Connor brings himself back to his feet and shadows behind her shoulder as she walks towards the door.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi everybody! I'm feeling so bittersweet about this being the final chapter of this fic. I've loved writing every single word and I thank you all so much for the love, support and kindness. I'll miss writing this story so much but who knows, maybe one day I'll think of a sequel :-) *Good news time* I've been working on lots of new fics and I can't wait to share them with you all! Happy reading as always! Xx

Clouds lay, low and heavy, threatening to spill rain at any second but they ignore the threat, sitting down on the concrete step outside the steel door, breathing in the clean air. Bending forward, Evan runs his hand through the grass. It prickles his fingers. Zoe's palm touches his back in smooth, rhythmic circles, almost absentmindedly and instinctively.

"We haven't written those essays yet," Jared comments.

"I've got nothing to say to the school." Zoe's tone is flat.

"What if, what if I write the essay?" Evan suggests quietly, still fiddling with the blades of grass. "For all of us." Zoe's hand pauses on his shoulder, she leans closer.

"You would do that? Why?" Zoe wants to know, softening her tone.

"It's fine, really. I want to."

There's a pause that follows this, neither oppressive or as unbearable as before. Zoe asks, almost to herself and almost out loud. "What happens tomorrow? Nothing has changed, for all we know we could be right back here next week." She does not have to add that school will still be hell, that no one will be bullied less by either themselves or by others.

"Oh, I don't know about that…I think some things have changed." Alana replies, her tone as drifting and smooth as the cool breeze that rustles her hair. Her words instil a warm wave of hope in Zoe's heart.

"No," Connor corrects, his bony hand running through his thick waves. "Nothing has changed."

Zoe shoots him a look, like an arrow leaving a bow and striking the centre of the target. "Alana says it has."

"Alana doesn't know everything."

Alana almost takes offence at his blunt words but there is some truth to him, so she acquiesces. Not without one cool look, however.

Connor presses on, "Nothing will change. Let's be real, here. Just because…we hung out for an afternoon doesn't mean that our lives are now completely different. This isn't a movie."

Jared hates to agree but he does. "I think Connor has a point."

Connor is stunned by having an ally in this; he always thought that Jared would rather walk into moving traffic than agree with him. He lays his blank eyes on Jared who stares back at him from behind his glasses with a nondescript but almost curious look. They can not possibly be more different and yet so very much similar underneath the edges and layers. For a flicker, they see it as clearly as if it spoken aloud.

Jared, not taking his eyes off of Connor, goes on, "Well, I mean, we aren't in some movie where they roll the credits and everything is resolved."

This hangs, cold and heavy in the air as the truth always does. The hope in Zoe's heart drains, rising into her neck and tightening her throat. When they get home, the boy across from her will go back to playing his many different characters, none of which are actually him. Or all of them are and Zoe is left to hopelessly guess.

Because he's right and so is Jared. Nothing has ever changed and it's probably never going to. It's the movie that goes on and on with no resolution, not really.

This realisation sickens her.

Evan is pale beside her. "I wish I never came here today," he bursts out with despair, as if the words have been cramming his mouth with increasing desperation, "I thought that things might actually be different, but you're right, why would that ever happen?"

He's speaking about more than detention. To live a life running in circles of deceiving rises and crushing falls is a difficult one to live, especially when all that is hoped for is a lift between the circles.

Zoe tries to comfort him, pressing her soft cheek against the fabric of his shoulder and he quivers to the touch but is inconsolable.

Somewhat ashamed of speaking up and upsetting Evan so deeply, Jared tries to say with humour to combat his thoughts, "Hey, Ev, I might even talk to you without the car insurance thing this year."

Evan doesn't look at him, bends his head forward and silently runs his hands through the damp grass again.

Alana, downhearted by the reality of the situation again, curses herself for ever letting herself daydream about change. How illogical. How unlike her. "I'm sorry."

"What for?"

Alana chooses her words with care, ones that have slowly evolved throughout the course of the day. "I'm sorry that you have thrown your life away like this Connor, or that Jared is so insecure and Zoe is alone and Evan is living a lie of being fine. I'm just sorry that we all turned out like this, I doubt anyone here aspired to be this way."

"Oh, what do you care?" Her truth leaves Connor with a bitter, broken aftertaste. "What do any of you care?"

Alana blinks back the threat of sudden tears. "More than you know."

"Alright, let's chill everybody," Jared makes the mistake of interjecting.

Alana turns towards him, still reeling from Connor's comment. "Don't you care?"

Jared is taken aback, off centred by her bluntness. "What? I mean, yeah, sure."

Alana twists back to Connor. "You're one to talk. You don't care about anybody or anything."

He stares at her blankly, processing her words, his dull eyes blinking. With heated words, he replies, "Do you have any idea why I'm even here right now?"

"Ok, why? Why are you here? Tell me." This is a challenge, not an invitation.

"Because of you!"

All of them turn to him, wide eyed with bewilderment. Zoe's lips part, mouth burning with questions waiting to be asked but she holds her tongue. Next to her, Evan is unmoving, not taking his eyes off of Connor. Even Jared is curious, wanting an explanation for everything.

Alana looks as though his words are bullets. "What? What are you talking about?" she begs for clarification in a softer edged voice.

To her and only to her, he spits, "You were being a junkie and I intervened. Told him that if he gave you one more of those pills, he'd be answering to me. So he said that if you got caught, I have to say I gave them to you." Sucking in a breath, he meets her eyes and says the obvious: "You got caught."

It's too late to take it back; Connor retracts from his own words, swearing at himself for ever letting impulsive speech leap in front of judgment. Alana isn't supposed to know about any of this. It would be so much easier, so much simpler if she didn't know.

  
Alana can't speak and doesn't trust herself to; god only knows what may be said in both shock and confusion. It's a dangerous combination. Their eyes remain locked on each other until his intense stare sends waves of heat through her, strong enough to drag her eyes downward towards the ground before them. Her mouth is dry, stomach twisting with both guilt and gratefulness and all of the messy emotions that are brought on from such a revelation.

The reaction makes Zoe distantly wonder what Evan would do or say if he knew what she's done for him. Maybe one day she'll find the courage and nerve to say something; until then, she restrains herself and holds herself back.

"I didn't know…" Alana lamely trails off. Connor gives her a final, glaring look, hardly angry at her but more so at himself for ever speaking in the first place.

"You weren't supposed to."

It's quiet following this. Jared obsessively takes his glasses on and off to clean the lenses on his shirt. Evan keeps halfheartedly picking at the grass. Zoe rests her head in her palms.

"Well, we're all just screwed up," Jared says and they all turn to him. "Thank god we're all so pretty."

There's a pause before Zoe's lips tug upwards slightly, gradually rising upwards until a smile breaks out across her face and laughter spills out of her, quickly followed by the others. Zoe hasn't seen Connor laugh or smile in years; it's a strange sight to see his narrow, always shadowed features spread into something softer and almost hesitant of their own abilities to be gentle. Alana and Jared's usually impassive faces are suddenly rosy with amusement and humour. And Evan, she can't take her eyes off of him as his chest rises and falls rapidly, eyes sparkling and flashing with the relieved, trembling laughter of someone who has needed to laugh for a long time.

Electing to laugh over the truth instead of cry over it does worlds of good. They laugh, they laugh over their own failings, the truth that they are screwed up, their faults and their many broken pieces that they never knew they shared with other each other. Instead of several shattered glass mosaics, together, they are one with so many colours and connections that link them tightly together to form something far larger than themselves.

-

The final hour quietly slips off of the clock. Everyone is in silent appreciation of Evan, watching him intently, the only sound is Evan's pencil as it scratches against the paper.

_Dear Principal,_

_I know that you wanted us to write essays explaining why we are here and apologising for our actions. In complete truth, we honestly cannot say that we are taking pride in what we have done. But every action was driven by something out of our control and we reacted because of it._

_That's simple science, sir._

_You think that we don't care and that's why we did what we did. In actuality, our various reasons did involve care, far more than you suspect._

_While it seems as though we care too little, I believe that we care too much._

_If you want us to promise that we'll be different, I cannot speak for all of us here. However, we will be lying to ourselves if we say that we have not learned a great deal about ourselves and each other._

_There is a quote from Macbeth that says 'What's done cannot be undone'._

_I think each of us would beg to differ on that._

_Sincerely, us_

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading! Please feel free to leave kudos or comments if you enjoyed this. I'd love to hear your thoughts! Xx


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